It was a hot humid normal day in the mountains near the ashau valley, I
believe it was around time for evening chow call. We were working in the ammo
bunker on the next level down from the gun positions. We were getting a fresh
load of shells stashed safely away inside of the bunker, when all of a sudden
I heard a sound like a jet coming in for a landing. Then a large explosion.
This was no jet, it was incoming enemy rocket fire. I was told when I first got
to this unit that I would know when a rocket attack happened, because a 122mm
rocket makes a noise like nothing you have ever heard. Let me tell you. The
man was 100% right. Now at the time I was still in the ammo section. We were not attached to a gun crew, but took care of
getting the ammo to the guns, and the excess to the storage bunkers. A very hot and heavy job. We had just finished reloading the gun sections. So now we had to get out of the ammo bunker, not a smart place to stay while under attack. We all scrambeled up the hill to our bunker so we could get weapons steel pots, and flack jackets. And let me tell you, we climbed all over each other getting up that hill. Got to the bunker and saddled up.
By that time at least 2 more rockets came in. We all ran back out
to take up defenseive positions wherever there wes some cover.The attack was over as quickly as it started. The gun crews were still firing direct fire at the area where the rockets came from.
They called stand down shortly after that. We were lucky this time. Whoever fired the rockets were lousy shots. All of them missed the hill with the exception of one that hit short on the other side. It slammed into the side of the hill just below the
out house. The small building rolled over and down the side of the hill with an unfortunate soldier still in the damn thing.
When the attack was over a few guys climbed down to see how the soldier was. When they got him out and found out he was ok except
for some scrapes and bruses, he was on his own. The poor guy was covered from head to toe with Human waste. What a story to tell you grand children.
After all of the festivities we over the battery commander asked me to drive him down the hill to the river where the rockets hit. That was the longest ride I think that I ever took. We were armed to the teeth and I was scared silly. When we got to where the rockets impacted, the old man poked around with a stick to determine the angle of impact and to find any parts that were left of the rockets. He found some but most of it was vaporized. All the while I was standing guard. It must have looked as if my head was on a swivel. I was trying to look everywhere at the same time. I didn't want us to get caught, or shot by the enemy. It seemed like we were there for a year but the old man finally finnished poking around and we started back. He had found a bunch of rocket parts and was happy as a clam. I thought he was nutts.
Later I found out that he put me up for an army commendation medal. I would have rather passed on that expedition. Believe me.
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